


Confession

by ScullyLovesQueequeg



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Possible Unrequited Love, Season/Series 06, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4257585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/pseuds/ScullyLovesQueequeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully begins to question her place in Mulder's life when she discovers that Mulder has another friend he's been travelling to New York to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It just happened one day while she was sitting directly next to him at his desk on the third floor, watching as he scrawled some notes for her to look at. He was focused with a severe intensity that caused his forehead to wrinkle in thought and the tip of his tongue to peek out from between his slightly parted lips.

Her attention was drawn to this minor detail, and she studied the rest of his features, and then considered him in whole. He was not ugly, quite the contrary; he had a puckish charm about him, and he was always ready to crack a joke to lighten the mood, even when it was inappropriate. More than once she had to swallow the urge to laugh at his humor which was often twisted.

But that was the thing about Mulder; his humor hid an intelligence that he often downplayed. He was quiet about how much he let on, and was never one to brag about his level of understanding, but he was a quick study, aided by an eidetic memory. Mulder could oftentimes see connections where others could not, and in her mind, his powers of observation were only second to Sherlock Holmes himself.

“Are you okay, Scully?” His voice brought her back to the present time, and she felt her skin flush with heat. He had caught her staring, perhaps rudely so.

“Yes, everything is fine. I was just thinking.” She said, and he offered her a smile. She returned it, in a nervous way and Mulder went back to writing.

It didn't hit her suddenly, but it was a slow realization that came only after they started working together again after they reunited in Antarctica. It was something she ruminated on as her eyes landed on a snow globe that was sitting on the edge of the desk. Encased was a pair of penguins, one slightly bigger than the other. It was a silly gift given to the both of them from one of the girls in accounting—Agent Harrison.

“Mulder, there's something I need to talk to you about,” She started, and Mulder glanced over at her, unsure of what sin he had committed against her inadvertently.

“I'm not upset with you.” She said and he seemed to be relieved.

“Could have fooled me. What's on your mind?” His attention was focused on her; he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk, perhaps sensing that this talk would probably not allow him to continue writing when it was over. The motion was uncomfortable with the keyboard on the desk, but he didn't seem to mind.

“Do you remember when we came back from Dallas, and I came over to tell you that I was putting my papers in?” Her hand brushed aside the locks of hair that threatened to obscure her vision, though at the moment, it was almost preferable to Mulder’s invasive stare. His eyes had a piercing quality that gave the impression of seeing through solid mass. It was disturbing.

“Yeah, I remember.” How could he forget?

“Do you remember how—how we almost kissed in the hallway?” Her voice was lowered in tender, intimate tones.

“Yeah. I remember that. I'm sorry.” He said, without prompting. The apology gave her pause; she had not been expecting it but it suddenly sprang forth like a roadblock, and she metaphorically drove into it and got stuck. She considered his words, and started to come to the conclusion that he was apologizing because he had regret the incident and by extension, he regretted the entire moment. This conclusion turned over in her mind and stopped her from what she was going to say, and rendered her almost speechless.

“Scully?” His voice sounded distant and unclear, as though it were being spoke through the crackling static of a handheld radio, and she knew, without having to continue, that the conversation was over, and it hadn't even begun.

“Sorry,” She muttered quietly, and she stood up to excuse herself to the bathroom. Mulder said nothing, but his eyes followed her out of the room, past the other desks, and Scully could feel his intrusive stare, even through the walls.

She slipped into the restroom and closed the door behind her, regarding her reflection in the mirror. She looked okay, maybe a little peaky, but nothing that would cause alarm. The realization had caused a knot of unease that grew into the makings of a sick stomach, and then with a splash of water and some whispered prayers, she was okay again.

When she entered the office, Mulder was no longer sitting. He was standing by a filing cabinet, with a case file in hand, looking it over with a particular scrutiny. Not yet ready to face him, Scully instead chose to take refuge in her seat at her own desk, and eye the Rolodex on his desk that was open to a _Cooper, Dale_. There was an entry for _Covarrubias, M._ on the desk, near the phone, but she paid these no mind, as she mentally ran through a checklist of things she needed to do.

“Well, I guess that about wraps it up,” Mulder said suddenly, putting the file under his arm and scooping up the card for Covarrubias. He tapped it to his forehead twice before putting it in his pocket and walking for the door. Then he paused and turned to face Scully as though he had forgotten something and said,

“I have to meet with someone over in New York. Work related. But I need someone here because that Sullivan case is still in the autopsy bay and I can't keep ducking Spender forever. I've asked Agent Fowley to keep him busy but…” There was a shrug in his words that was not expressed, but otherwise conveyed in his general demeanor. There was something Scully could sense he was evading, but he did not give her the chance to inquire as he started to leave the office.

“Mulder, wait, are you coming back?” Her voice followed him out of the office, over the heads of the other agents who worked there, and he popped his head back into the doorway, ignoring the stares that they were receiving from their conversation.

“Uh, no. I'll see you Monday.”


	2. Chapter 2

The day was amazingly calm and underwhelming without Mulder’s presence or his jokes to make her smile. It made doing background checks all the more easier, but at the same time, it was lonely. The other agents on the floor did not regard her with any more attention than they did Mulder, though a couple of times, she did catch some whispering.

She had finally found a break in her work to do the autopsy that Mulder had requested, and when she got down to the morgue, she was surprised to find Agent Spender there, with Agent Fowley. They both looked up at her, Spender with a small, unfriendly smile, and Fowley with a genuinely welcoming smile. Scully dismissed Fowley completely, instead stepping forward and casually asking Spender,

“What is this?”

“Funny you should ask, as I distinctly recall you having a medical background,” Spender said, making a failed effort to hide his hostility under his professional demeanor.

“I meant it in a way that implied I wanted to help,” Scully said, folding her arms over her chest and finally regarding Fowley with a mirrored version of the frown Spender had given her. Fowley’s smile faded into a frown as well, though her brows read disappointment.

“I don't need your help.” Spender contested, looking to his partner. It must have been a prompt to agree with him, however, she said,

“I think that we could benefit from Agent Scully’s medical expertise. Mulder has told me how your medical conclusions have helped him countless times.”

The words remained on her jacket and dripped down slowly in an oleaginous way that left Scully feeling off-skelter. She wasn't sure how to respond, but Spender rescued her, saying,

“I don't care what Agent Mulder says. I don't want her near this case. Bad enough the case file is missing, I don't need my corpse missing, too.”

Fowley offered Scully a shrug, and Scully responded by stating,

“Well, I guess if there's nothing I can do to help, I'll be taking my leave.” She turned to do just that, and Agent Fowley followed her into the elevator.

“I'm sorry Spender won't let you look at the body. I'm sure Mulder asked you to come down to do an autopsy, didn't he?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Scully answered, feigning ignorance. Fowley gave a small sigh, and then said,

“Dana, I know you feel protective of Mulder, but I just wanted to let you know, I'm on his side, too. I was the one who gave him that case file, and pleaded for the X-Files to be reopened. I worked with him for a while, so I know how he operates, and how charming he can be. I don't want to feel like it's just you two against everyone here. You do have friends, and I'd like to be one, too. I have a lunch break I didn't take, how about we go to Fiorelli’s? My treat.”

“Alright,” Scully conceded, though she was still on edge, unwilling to trust Fowley. Fowley offered her another smile and she finally returned it, though it was nervous and insincere in quality. “Just don't call me Dana. Please call me Agent Scully.”

“Okay, Agent Scully. You can call me Diana, if you'd like.”

 

When they arrived at Fiorelli’s, they were seated by the window.

“I've been working at the FBI for a good couple of years now and I've never been here before,” Agent Fowley started, in an honest effort to start a conversation. Scully seemed removed from the scene and self-contained, her entire focus on the menu. When she realized that Fowley was waiting for her input, she finally said,

“Mulder and I come here sometimes. The food isn't bad.” Her voice was curt, and it matched her attitude. Fowley was not dissuaded, however.

“Oh yeah? Do you have any recommendations? I'm sure if you and Mulder come here, the food must be great then, and I’ve always known Mulder to be particularly finicky with his food.”

“—I don't mean to pry, but how exactly do you know Mulder? He's told me about all his partners, and I've just about met them all too, so I'm surprised that he's never mentioned you before.” Scully was direct, and the result was a forced smile from Fowley, with the characteristics of a crocodile—too wide and too many teeth. Twice, Scully saw herself drowning in the gaping white maw of the Antarctic snow, which is what Fowley’s smile reminded her of, the whirling white and grey blurring into a stomach churning sensation that made her sick.

_‘Background in parapsychology. Agent Fowley is one of the best and you'll find yourself appreciating the stricture and the thoroughness she offers to the job. It doesn't help that she's Mulder’s old chickadee. Good luck separating those two, nearly always in cahoots with each other, not unlike you are with him now.’_

The quote was as good as true, as she saw it unfolding in front of her like a poorly arranged play in which the actors were playing multiple roles without a proper costume change.

“Well, we were partners,” Fowley started, brushing her hair out of her face and settling her gaze on Scully’s ears. The result was the illusion of direct eye contact, although that was not the case. “Then I had an assignment overseas and had to leave abruptly. Mulder and I were very close—I mean in the same way I imagine you two are. We were dating briefly too, but once I got called overseas, that pretty much ended things. I suspect he's still not over my abrupt departure, and seeing as he's got you, he probably moved on.”

The answer left a strange metallic taste in Scully’s mouth not unlike blood, that she sought to correct with a glass of water that was deposited at the table for her and Fowley. She took a generous gulp as she stalled for time, thinking of a response to Fowley’s revelation. Finally, Scully had to put the glass down, and her eyes fell on the faintly patterned paisley printed table cloth. The longer she considered it, the more she wondered if the pattern was making her sick, or Fowley’s words.

“Mulder and I are just coworkers. I mean, I care about him, but beyond that, I'm not involved with his personal life,” Scully declared, glancing up as the shadow of the waiter fell on the table. She made eye contact with him and nervously licked her lips before stating her order and handing back her menu. Fowley considered answering Scully, but ordered instead, before returning her attention to her colleague when the waiter stepped away.

“Really? I'm sorry, I got the impression you two were a little more involved than that.”

“Yeah, everyone does,” Scully said, in almost a sad sort of way.

A silence fell between the women, and Scully’s attention drifted out the window, just beyond the line of bushes under the window.

 

 

Lunch was mostly inane chatter that fizzled out after a couple seconds. Fowley had been making an incredible effort to reach out to Scully, but at every turn, she was blocked and eventually, Fowley gave up, and surrendered into the silence that loomed over and between them on that Friday afternoon.

After a while, Scully finally asked in a low voice,

“Would you know him well enough to detect if something is amiss?”

Fowley blinked momentarily, thinking of her brief encounter she had with Mulder recently, though she knew the answer was yes, undoubtedly so.

“I suppose so, why?”

“I feel like he's been kind of evasive lately. I don't know what it is. He told me he was going to do something in New York, work related.”

“Why would he be evasive about that?”

“Well, I would normally accompany him if it was work related, but we aren't even on the X-Files, much less a case for him to be traveling… And if it's for a background check, why wouldn’t he have invited me? It just doesn't add up,” Scully dismissed the rest of her words, gently pushing aside her plate.

“You think he's hiding something from you?”

“Not from me, just in general. I don't know how I feel about it. I suppose it's none of my business, and if he wanted me to know, he would have invited me, but he hadn't.” She had decided that she didn't want Fowley’s help after all, but the other woman took her chances.

“Do you want me to find out? He confides in me still, so I can see if he's hiding anything from you…” Fowley offered, her tone reminding Scully of a dog only too excited to finally be of any use. It disgusted her.

“No, that won't be necessary. I'll just confront him on Monday. I suppose he finally has a girlfriend or something…”

“Why do you think that?”

“I notice he's been spending weekends at a time out when he leaves on the weekends and he keeps his phone off too. I also tried to get in touch with him once and his friends told me he was off with another friend of his.” Scully shrugged; her tone sounded suspicious, and though it was not any of her business, the idea of Mulder keeping his movements secret from her bothered her—it indicated a lack of trust.

“Sounds like he just doesn't want you to know. I'll keep my ear on the ground, though,” Fowley offered, taking a bite of her chicken veal. Scully only sighed, but excused herself to go to the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, she decided to call Mulder. It was still early in the afternoon, so chances were he hadn't turned off his phone yet.

“Mulder,” He answered.

“Mulder, it's me,” Scully started.

“Oh hey Scully. Is something wrong?”

“No, I…. Mulder, where are you?”

“Uh, at home. I'm packing to go to New York. What's up?”

“No, I…” Her voice trailed off. The thought of confronting Mulder like a suspicious girlfriend absolutely revolted her, although she knew part of it was not being able to trust Fowley, either.

“Is everything okay? Do you need me to drop by your apartment before I go or something?”

“No, actually, I'll meet you at yours.” There was a brief pause, and then Scully asked quietly, “Should I pack as well?”

“To come with me, you mean?” He paused, and Scully imagined he was trying to let her down gently.

“Well, if you want to come, you can but I just figured you had better things to do this weekend than to spend it sitting in a car for 4 hours. You were complaining about that on Tuesday,” He continued. Relief flooded her being like a sudden drug, and despite herself, she let out a breathless laugh.

“No, I… I want to come. Thank you, Mulder. I’ll leave in a bit to go pack and you can meet me at my apartment. Do you want dinner, too?”

“Okay,” Mulder said, though his tone seemed guarded and unsure. There was another pause in the conversation and finally, Mulder asked,

“Are you okay, Scully?”

“I was just… I was worried you were hiding something from me.” Scully admitted, though she dreaded his response.

“No, I just figured after all the complaining you did, it would be better if we spent less time around each other,” His tone was cold, and painted with indignation. His tone made her stomach sink, and very suddenly, she wanted to run back to her mother’s home and hide in the basement.

“Oh, I see,” She did not address his words, instead procrastinating so that she could return to Fowley. “I'll see you at my apartment later.”

“Alright. Bye.” Mulder said, and he hung up.

Scully bit her lip, but stepped out of the bathroom and headed back to her seat, wondering why she even bothered.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They have sex in this chapter. You can skip it if you like. Why would you want to read that?

When Scully arrived at her own her apartment later in the evening, she found that her rent bill came in and that there was a large and very quick cockroach that was taking residence in her living room. She did not normally fear them, but she refused to kill it, instead leaving it for Mulder to take care of later. She went to go pack in her room before Mulder came.

Mulder arrived a little after an hour, when Scully was already packed and changed into more casual clothing. She greeted him with a smile, but his was a look of indifference, and she wondered if he was forcing himself to bring her. Regardless, she let him in, and warned him as he hung up his coat,

“There is a roach in the living room, if you want to do me a favor and get rid of it.”

“How big is it?”

“I don't know. It was big. The kind that fly.” She mentioned, and Mulder began to search for it, while she spectated in a worried fashion. The scene felt natural, normal, and domestic.

Mulder found and killed it, and after cleaning up, he returned to her, somewhat triumphantly.

“This is why you need a boyfriend,” He teased, his cold manner melting away with the absurdity of the situation, “so he can do things like that for you.”

“I would have gotten rid of it myself but it was too quick for me. Besides, I'm—” 

“A doctor and you don't take lives, you save them. I know,” He said, and a silence threatened to take over. 

“Mulder, about this afternoon, when I mentioned Antarctica… I wanted to thank you. I don't think I ever thanked you for saving my life. You went above and beyond for me, after I finished saying that I was leaving you and… I realized my place is here, with you. I'm sorry that I complained so much about being stuck in a car with you. I enjoy your company. I prefer it. I would like to spend time with you, outside of a work setting, but I'm afraid that you only ever want to consider me in the capacity of your coworker, and not your friend. I am your friend Mulder.” 

“No need to thank me,” Mulder mumbled bashfully, though he was aware of the weight of the words she was choosing. They said all but, ‘I love you’, and part of him wondered if she did. 

“I know but… I don't just mean back in Antarctica. I mean, you saved many, many times over. I don't mean to make you feel as though I don't enjoy your company because that can't be further from the truth.” 

“Is that what you were planning to say earlier today, in the office?” 

The question threw Scully for a loop an after a brief moment of confusion, she remembered what she had been meaning to say. The issue rose to her mind quietly, and when she met eyes with him, he gave her an encouraging nod. 

“No, I—you know, it’s nothing terribly important, actually. It’s probably left said for another time.” Scully conceded. Mulder frowned, but did not push it further. 

“Well, are you ready to go, then?” 

“Yes, but I promised dinner, didn’t I? What would you like?” Scully moved into the kitchen a bit too lightly, and Mulder watched her, his arms folding over his chest. 

“Are you really worried that I’m hiding something from you?” He asked, and Scully stopped cold in her tracks, and turned to face him slowly, her eyes lingering on her hands, which had begun to fidget. She felt cornered; she didn't want to admit as much, because it would reveal a lack of trust on her part, and invalidate what she had just told him. On the other hand, if she lied, he would know, and she imagined that lying was a bigger transgression in his eyes. Silently, she prayed for a miracle to save her from the conflict that was sure to spring forth if she didn't answer his question, and it was delivered with the serendipitous ringing of her telephone. 

“Scully,” She said as soon as she answered it. Mulder watched her as she spoke, and she figured he was trying to gauge how long the conversation might be. 

“Hello, Agent Scully. I wanted to call to ask you if you ever spoke to Mulder what was bothering you.” It was Fowley. Scully wasn't quite sure how to answer, but she feigned friendliness for the sake of staying on the phone and avoiding Mulder. 

“Oh? That's kind of you. Things are okay. I appreciate you calling me back. Just give me a second?” Scully said, and before Fowley could protest, she covered the mouthpiece and said to Mulder, 

“This might be a couple, I'll meet you downstairs?” Mulder did not argue and taking her suitcase, he headed out to his car to load up the suitcase. When Mulder was gone, she sighed, and uncovered the mouth piece. 

“I'm sorry about that,” Scully said, her fingers hovering by the phone jack that attached the handset to the cradle. 

“It's alright. Are you busy right now?” 

“No, I'm not. I got a chance to—” Scully pulled out the phone jack from the cradle, hung up and plugged it back in, before she took her coat and headed down to the car, where Mulder was waiting. 

  
The first part of the ride, that took them over the Chesapeake Bay was done in silence. Every so often, Scully glanced over, to see if Mulder would say something, but he remained silent. 

“It's a really nice night,” Scully finally said, looking over once more to gauge his reaction. 

“The water reflecting the clouds during the day here was always a view I enjoyed,” Mulder said, though it was an empty sound that seemed directed more at an acquaintance. 

“I agree, it's quite lovely during the day…” Scully echoed, though she felt as though she was making a mistake in coming with him. 

“Do you really think I'm hiding something from you? What would I be hiding?” 

It was the conversation Scully had been dancing around, and as such, when he mentioned it, she wasn't sure how to answer. 

“No. I did think so before, but I'm sure you're not now.” 

“What made you change your mind?” 

“You letting me come with you. I just… I just thought that maybe you were seeing someone in New York. You’ve been going there a lot the last couple weeks. I think it's been a month or so.” 

“How do you know?” 

“You left the toll booth tickets in my drawer. I found them when I was cleaning it out,” Scully explained, her hand moving a couple of stray locks from her face. Though Mulder would not express it, he was impressed at that attention to detail. It was something she always did, but it never ceased to amaze him. 

“I suppose I should tell you, I have an informant up in New York I see sometimes. I always try to take them out for dinner in exchange for help on whatever case I'm working on,” Mulder mentioned, his tone indifferent. Scully wasn't sure how to take this news. 

“Oh, I see. Why haven't you told me?” 

“I'm telling you now.” 

“Yes, but…” Scully stopped herself, and returned her gaze out of the window. “Is it okay if I meet them too?” 

“No, I'm sorry. I don't want to sound like an asshole, but I noticed when my informants meet you, they tend to die prematurely. I'm actually really fond of her,” Mulder said offhandedly, though his tone suggested that he wasn't admitting the whole truth to her. 

“I understand.” Scully said, though she felt as though it was an excuse with very little merit, and she picked up on his tone. 

“I'm glad. I wish it didn't have to be that way, she's wanted to meet you for a while.” Mulder said, and Scully glanced over, her brows raised in surprise. 

“Okay, so what did you tell her?” 

“That you're my partner and one of the best things that happened to my career. You've made my work honest, and I could never repay you for that.” 

“Oh, I see. You don't have to feel as though you have to repay me. I'm just glad that I could help. I don't care much about aliens, but I care about you, and you care about the truth… So by extension, I care too. I don't regret a moment of this journey.” 

“I know, I know.” Mulder said, bashfully. He chanced another look in her direction and found her attention fixed on her fingers. Something was eating her, and he wasn't sure what. Her tone indicated that she wasn't fully convinced he was telling the truth. It was not the first time he had omitted the truth from her. 

  
The car remained silent as they continued to drive, each lost in their own thoughts. The silence between them was nearly unbearable, and so Mulder reached over to turn on the radio, putting it on just low enough that it sounded like a distant murmur. Despite this, he was aware of it being a love song—one that he knew. 

Scully shifted in her seat so that she was resting her head against the window. Her arms were crossed over her chest, almost in a protective manner. Usually, she would switch the radio off, but she made little or no notice of it. 

“…this has been really eating you, hasn't it?” Mulder asked, as the nighttime settled over the car, and made eye contact nearly impossible. 

“Yes, it has.” Her reply was a quiet whisper that took a tremendous effort to put forth, and she herself wondered why it was that she felt it was such a big deal. 

“Why?” 

“Mulder, I...” Words failed her, and she closed her eyes, wishing to drop the subject. 

“Is it because you're jealous?” The word jealous had an ugly sting to it, and her reaction to it told him as much as he needed to know: she was. 

“No. What do I have to be jealous of? I mean… We aren't—we’re just—I don't care—” 

“No, Scully, see, I think you do. I think that you are jealous, and I think I know why, as well.” The car slowed to a stop on the side of the road, and Scully felt her heart racing because she wasn't sure what Mulder was planning to do. 

“I'm not jealous,” Scully whispered, looking away as she heard him fumble with his seatbelt. Curiousity burned at her to look, but she did not want to give him the satisfaction of being correct yet again. 

“You are,” He spoke, his tone almost breathless. His voice had this edge to it that she had not heard before, but it excited her, and there was a fluttering feeling in the pit of her gut. 

Scully didn't answer. She didn't even look at him, but she felt something slightly wet and soft brush her cheek, and when she turned to look at it, she was surprised to find that Mulder was leaning in close to her as if to kiss her. She looked alarmed, but she realized she wanted it too, and she met his lips, fumbling for her seatbelt and feeling it catch under her arm as it tried returning to it’s original position. His tongue sought hers and explored her mouth, and hers did the same, her back arching when she felt his arm encircle her waist. 

“M-Mulder—wait,” She protested when she pulled away from him to extricate herself from the seatbelt. Afraid he had done something wrong, he recoiled from her, facing forward and shaking his head. 

“I'm so--I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I—I didn't mean for that to happen, I'm so sorry.” He apologized, sounding genuinely concerned. 

“No—I enjoyed that, I was just—I was going to suggest maybe we go to the back seat?” Her voice was a breathless, excited whisper, and he glanced over, and although she couldn't see him, she imagined his face was almost as red as hers was beginning to be. 

“Oh, uh… alright.”  
  


The space was small, but it was a snug fit for them, with Scully’s seat moved most of the way up because of her height. 

When he descended upon her again, she turned her face, and he took that as a sign to kiss her neck. This elicited a moan from her. He was right above her, either leg astride, her, his back slightly arched, and his torso lowered so he could reach her neck. Her arms slid underneath the jacket on his suit, feeling their way to where his buttons were. She began to loosen his tie and undo the buttons, and a soft chuckle pushed from him as he continued gently grazing her skin with his teeth. 

“I just wanted to kiss you,” He spoke into her ear, and his tone, low and husky sent a chill that tore up her spine, and created a familiar warmth between her legs. 

“I want you to do more than kiss me,” She responded, freeing the last button and glancing as his now open shirt created sort of a curtain that hid her body. His hands were at her shoulders gently pushing off the blazer, and moving lower to rest his hand on her breast, squeezing it through her bra and shirt. 

He pulled back for a moment, sitting back on his haunches, and Scully slid backwards so that she could sit up, and remove her blazer and her shirt for him. Mulder was fumbling with his belt buckle, his shirt half off and his jacket casually discarded on the floor beside them. When Scully saw he was fumbling with the belt, her hands moved to help him, giving the belt loop a firm tug when she was done. 

“Thanks,” He whispered breathlessly, leaning in to give her another hungry kiss that she reciprocated. Her hands found her way underneath his shirt as they continued kissing, touching his bare skin, and moving up to his chest. He pulled away again to remove the shirt, and his tie. Scully leaned back, her legs spread obscenely for him, one straddling his hip and the other dangling from the seat.  

He was not gentle when he hitched up her skirt, exposing the lacy underwear that did not match her bra. She gasped at the sudden exposure, but Mulder’s mouth on her collar bone, and his hands around her back, unfastening her bra turned her gasp into a low moan, that Mulder could feel as he kissed her. His mouth trailed down to her right breast, lingering a little over her nipple, before nipping it gently with his teeth. Her hands held his head, her fingers weaving their way through his hair as he continued to play around with her nipple in his mouth. 

She could feel his hand stray down to where her thigh was, and paint broad strokes along the inside of it, brushing against her panties every now and then. With each brush, she moved her hips. He finally released her nipple and moved across her chest to her other nipple, using his teeth to lightly graze it. Her grip on his head was held tighter and her eyes closed, as she pushed forth another moan. 

“Mulder, please,” She whined, her voice quiet, yet filled with desire. He pulled away from her chest to laugh quietly to himself, but eventually moved to leave another trail of kisses, which terminated at her belly button. Once again, she brought her hand to his head, entwining her fingers in his hair. 

“Go lower,” She whispered; she was aching to feel him inside her, but Mulder had other plans, as he moved back up to kiss her lips. 

“You tease,” She muttered, her lips moving against his. He kissed her chin, and trailed down her body once more, this time, stopping at her panties, and tracing his finger over the waistband. Her hips rose to urge him further, but his index finger slid under the waistband and snapped it against her skin. 

“Mulder, _please_ ,” She begged, her chest rising and falling in rapid sweeps. She was incredibly aroused, and wanted him every second he held out. 

“Please what?” He asked, just as breathless as she sounded. She turned her face away from him, but it was no use, because his fingers traced an intricate pattern along her underwear. 

“Damn, you're so wet,” He whispered, his voice a husky tenor that she recognized to signify that he too, was enjoying this. The comment brought an embarrassed blush to her cheeks, and she brought her knees together, to deny him further access. He moved his hand, and put both of them on her knees so he could pry them apart. 

“That’s so sexy,” He continued, hooking his thumbs through the very top of the hole where her legs would step through on her underwear, and he tugged it off, exposing her completely. Shyly, she withdrew her legs from her underwear, and closed her legs, a stark contrast from the obscene way she’d been sitting earlier. She even drew an arm over her breasts. 

“Mulder, you're not taking off your slacks?” She asked, using her free hand to move a stray lock from her eyes. Mulder nodded enthusiastically and pulled away from her to work his way out of his slacks and shorts, so that they were both equally exposed. 

Scully had always imagined Mulder to perhaps be on the smaller side, but she was surprised that he was bigger than she had imagined, and perhaps secretly delighted, too. She sat up on all fours and leaned forward to take his length into her hand. Watching her curiously, he observed as she stroke him and then subsequently applied her tongue to his shaft, drawing out a soft moan of pleasure from him. She continued to alternate in this method until he was sporting a full erection. She pulled away, just as he began to grumble in protest. 

“Why didn't you keep going?” Mulder asked, idly stroking himself out of habit. 

“Mulder, I want--I want you inside of me. I want you to fuck me,” Scully said, holding her breasts as she decided to sit back on the seat with her legs spread obscenely once more. 

Mulder didn't need to be told twice. He descended upon her, giving her time to cross her ankles over the small space of his back. He was not gentle, instead plunging himself all at once inside her, which caused her to buck her hips in surprise. He buried his head in her neck and began to move in and out, quickly, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh filling the car quickly as she matched his movements.

Each time he bottomed out inside of her, she moaned, desperate for him to fill her with his release and remain in her. He gave a couple more thrusts, before he finally came inside her, panting heavily. She, too was panting, and she gave him a soft, tittering laugh, as he pulled out of her and hit his head on the ceiling of the car’s interior. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, drawing her legs closer to her to close them. Mulder sat back on his knees, rubbing his head, but he nodded, to indicate he was okay. 

“…we should probably get cleaned up,” Scully suggested, and Mulder nodded. She looked about her person and spotted the tissue box sitting in the back window, and so after removing a couple, she gently began to dab herself clean. While she busied herself with this task, she glanced over to Mulder to find he was watching her with interest. She smiled shyly at him, and then looked away; they had just had sex for the first time, in the back of Mulder’s Ford Taurus, and though she swore when she was younger, that she would never have sex in the back of a car, here she was, cleaning herself up, and smiling at her partner.  
  


The silence that followed as the two of them redressed and made themselves decent was a comfortable silence in the way that blankets were soft. When they were done redressing and had taken their seats back in the front, the question that had been lingering since they had kissed was still in the air. 

“Is this going to change the way things are going to be between us?” Scully had laid the question forth, and in the darkness that was only aided by the lights outside, the question settled like an unwanted guest. 

“I should hope not. I would love to do it again, but I would rather there be no strings attached.” He said, and she felt a little cheated. She had wanted him inside her, so she could feel connected because to her, this did change things. They had sex, and she had exposed herself for him and she trusted him, and now he was telling her it didn't meant much more than a roll in the hay. 

“Oh, I see,” Scully spoke quietly. Mulder chanced a glance at her that she couldn't see but she knew he had looked. 

“Is there something wrong?” He asked, and Scully didn't know how to answer. Not once while they were having sex did he mention that he loved her. She had assumed that the action meant it was obvious, but now she was not sure. 

“No, I'm just tired. You really took it out of me,” Scully lied, forcing a laugh.  

“Did you want to maybe stop at a motel?” She could not see Mulder’s expression, but from his words she could guess his expression was that of worry. 

“No, I'll just sleep here. I don't want you getting late. Don't worry about me, Mulder.” 


End file.
